


Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

by Liron_aria



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Oliver Queen Needs a Hug, Prostitution, Two Shot, set in season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27392398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/pseuds/Liron_aria
Summary: Oliver thinks he and Roy are more alike than Roy realises. Roy thinks that Oliver needs better taste in men and a refresher course on the principles of consent - and that consent under duress is not consent at all.
Relationships: One-Sided Oliver Queen/Slade Wilson, Roy Harper & Oliver Queen, Sara Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	1. Desperate Times

**Author's Note:**

> One of my longstanding headcanons is that Oliver was in love with Slade on Lian Yu, and that Slade was unaware of it. I vacillate on whether they were sexually involved or not, but in scenarios where they were, Oliver entered the relationship under the assumption that he was paying for food/shelter/aid with sex. ~~And fell in love with Slade anyway because he wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face.~~
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow. The CW and DC Comics do.

It’s funny how things work out.

Roy can't make ends meet just by working at Verdant, so he turns to the age-old profession of turning tricks. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Less fine, less whatever, is Oliver finding out, glaring the man with a hand down Roy’s jeans to death, and dragging Roy off to a better apartment.

The apartment is the upper end of normal, and Roy immediately protests, because he doesn't want charity, and Oliver waves him off distractedly.

“We'll figure something out. You, get used to the place first.”

Roy swallows and stiffens. If he wanted a sugar daddy, he’d still be on the streets, wouldn’t he? So he tells Oliver he won't be _his_ whore, either.

Roy had forgotten what it felt like to have Oliver's tightly coiled fury directed at him. It's banked behind his iron will, and Roy realises he's crossed a line.

Because underneath it all is a tinge of hurt and self-loathing.

“I - I - shit, I'm sor -”

Oliver waves off his apology, instead saying, “There's a training room in the back. Use it.”

And then he's gone.

Ah, fuck.

The apartment is somehow a perfect blend of classy and upscale, but sensible and not overwhelming. No modern art crap or fancy chandeliers. The training room, on the other hand, is an actual doorway to heaven, and Roy has no idea why they use the Foundry instead of this place.

Going to work is... weird, because he can't figure out Oliver's game, and he doesn't want Thea to know anything at all. So he hangs around Verdant, claiming 'guy stuff' - and man, doesn't Thea get a kick out of that - until a bemused Oliver appears and asks him why he didn't go home.

“I, uh, kind of forgot where it was.”

Oliver gives him that flat stare he does when he knows someone is trying to feed him bullshit, and then gestures at him. “Come on, time to go home.”

Roy feels a little skittish at the way Oliver's sharp eyes sweep over the apartment when they return, as if Oliver's looking for changes or damages or -

“Were you comfortable last night?”

\- uh. What.

Oliver looks at him expectantly, and Roy answers cautiously, "Yeah, fine. How long can I crash here, anyway? I made sure not to mess anything up."

Oliver muses. "Utilities are paid up through the end of the year, but you'll need to get security to make you a keycard so you can go in and out after hours."

"Wait - wait! _The year?!_ I can't even afford rent for a place like this for a week!"

"Which is why the bills are already paid," Oliver answers slowly.

All the tension building under Roy's skin explodes. "I told you I didn't need your charity! I can take care of myself, okay, this isn't fucking - Pretty Woman or something where some rich guy just swoops in and reforms the hooker into a _respectable_ member of society! I was doing fine on my own, and just because a trust-fund kid like you doesn't like how I get my money doesn't mean you can come in and take over my life until it fits what you want!"

Oliver's expression in inscrutable as Roy rails.

"The fuck would you know, anyway," Roy spits resentfully, "You have more money than God; the rest of us have to _work_ for a living."

Oliver's eyebrow rises slightly. "Are you done?"

"... Yeah."

Oliver nods. "Okay. Sit."

Roy grabs a chair from the table and sits. Fuck, this is it, Oliver is going to _kill him_ for shouting at him in his own apartment. Way to bite the hand that feeds, Harper.

Oliver grabs another chair, spinning it around so he can straddle it and rest his hands across the back. "You're right that I grew up a trust-fund kid and had never worked a day in my life. Which meant that when I was stranded on the Island, I had no survival skills, or any useful skills, really."

Suddenly, Roy's not sure he's going to like where this is going.

"I worked with another man on the Island to escape. He was former military, and had been stranded on the Island even longer than me. Surviving for just one person is hard enough, but feeding an extra mouth with nothing in return is an even greater burden. I needed him to survive, but I didn't have any money or tools or skills to offer him in return. All I had was my body."

" _Shit_..." Roy breathes, and wishes he could take back everything he's said.

Oliver's gaze is piercing and understanding as he meets Roy's eyes. "So I do understand," he says quietly, "What desperation can drive a person to do. But Roy, you _have_ to know you are worth more than this."

"Yeah," Roy replies unsteadily, his mind racing, "Yeah, I _do_. I do."

Oliver looks at him a moment more, and then nods. "Good. I didn't have anyone to help me in those days, not until I learned to fight and hunt myself. But you do. You're my partner, Roy, and I will always be here when you're in trouble. This isn't charity, alright? I know just how capable you are. Stay here until you get back on your feet. Ask Thea for a raise -"

"No!" Roy blurts out, "No, you can't tell Thea about this!" He fidgets for a moment. "I just... I don't want her to know about this... y'know?"

Given how little Oliver talks about his five years away, Roy figures he understands.

Oliver answers with a nod and half-shrug. "Okay."

"But just until I figure things out!"

"Yup." The half-smile on Oliver's face, however, clearly says that Oliver would let Roy stay here free of charge forever.

A moment of silence drags between them, before Roy asks, "Hey, Oliver...?"

Oliver looks at him curiously, and Roy hesitates. He wants to ask if Oliver realises their situations aren't the same, but he can already tell Oliver thinks they are. Which. Is all kinds of fucked up, but if that's what Oliver needs, fine.

"... Thanks. For everything."

Oliver stands and smiles at him, full and true, and claps him on the shoulder. "Always. Now, let's go put that training room to good use."

Roy grins.

Oh, _Hell_ yes.


	2. Desperate Measures

“Whoa,” Sara says as she enters the Foundry, “What’s got you all tied up in knots?”

Roy snarls and slams his palm against the training dummy, panting for a few moments before gritting out, “ _Oliver_.”

Sara winces. “Yikes. What’d he do?”

Roy spins around, furious. “ _Why would you ask that?!_ Why does fucking _everyone_ always think it’s _his fault?!”_

Sara’s eyes widen and she holds her hands up in appeasement. “Hey, take it easy. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Just - he has to know it’s not _okay_ , right?” Roy demands desperately. “It wasn’t okay!”

“Roy,” Sara says slowly, “Oliver has to know what wasn't okay?”

_“Slade!”_

Sara’s brow furrows as she tries to make sense of Roy’s near-incoherent agitation. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Oliver knows what Slade’s been doing in Starling isn’t okay. That’s _why_ we’ve been fighting him, Roy.”

Roy makes a frustrated noise. “Not that. Of course he knows - Oliver would die for this city, so obviously he’s not gonna let Slade do anything to it.”

Sara’s confusion only grows as she tries to figure out what _else_ Slade did - ah. The Amazo.

“Oliver knows Slade was insane by the time we got to the Amazo, too, Roy,” Sara explains gently, “He may still feel some guilt over what happened to Shado, but he knows that he torture Slade put him through was wrong.”

_“Not that, either!”_ Roy stops, and his face falls in horror. “You don’t know. You weren’t there at the beginning, and he didn’t tell you.”

Sara tilts her head slightly. “What didn’t Oliver tell me?”

“Slade! He - he - _fuck_ , I can’t even say it!” Roy laughs, a bitter, jagged sound that sends unease crawling down Sara’s spine. “Did you know, Oliver told me that when he landed on the Island, he didn’t have any skills or money to trade? That he was a burden on whoever tried to help him, and that the only thing he had to offer was his _body_.”

Sara’s blood runs cold. Oh, God.

“Slade made him _pay_ for food and water with sex, and Oliver thinks it’s okay! He just shrugged, like ‘eh, Slade was a dick, but it’s okay because I was a consenting adult’ and no??? Fuck’s sake, he _literally could not consent_ because the other option was to _die_ , so there was no choice!”

Sara only half-hears Roy’s rant, a loud buzzing in her ears. Oliver had - Slade? The same Slade he was _in love with?_ It makes sense, now. It makes horrifying sense, why Oliver is so gentle and understanding with her when it comes to Ivo.

The unease in her gut is quickly turning to nausea, because she knows what sleeping with Oliver is like. He's a _very_ talented lover, easily adjusting to her every need and desire. Is that because he’s learned to pleasure his partner to the best of his ability or risk certain death?

But no - she and Oliver have taken down rapists and assaulters on patrol before. Oliver knows the importance of consent - clear and enthusiastic consent, at every turn. So why wouldn’t that apply to him? And how had he found it in his heart to forgive Slade and fall in love with him anyway?

No. Not forgive, because you don’t forgive someone when you think they’ve done nothing _wrong_.

Roy groans in frustrated desperation, hands clenching and unclenching as the helpless fury inside him tries to find an outlet. “Man, he pulled me off the streets and gave me an entire _apartment_ and made sure I knew I was worth more when he found me with a john. Why would he think that didn’t apply to him?”

Sara’s thoughts temporarily derail. “Wait, what?”

Roy flushes when he realises what he’s revealed, and fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh. I couldn't make rent and food with just my salary from Verdant, so I turned tricks for a while. Oliver found out and dragged me out. He’s letting me stay at one of his apartments until I can figure something else out.”

Sara sighs, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Yeah, that sounds like Ollie.”

Roy bites back a growl, giving up and turning back to slam a fist against the training dummy. Sara grasps his shoulder before he can hurt himself.

“He does know,” she says, though she’s not sure who she's trying to reassure, "Honestly, he’s probably more aware than anyone else I know. He just… doesn’t think it applies to him.”

“That. Is fucking bullshit.”

“Yeah. But it’s what he needs to survive.”

Neither of them find that particularly comforting.

(But months later, when Slade’s army invades the city and Oliver cures him of the mirakuru, Roy puts an arrow through Slade’s throat just as Sara puts one through the back of his head.)

_**(Slade Wilson will never hurt Oliver again.)**_

**Author's Note:**

> #PROTECTOLIVERQUEEN2K4EVER
> 
> Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
